Page 256 of Something Rad
“Thanks, Eugene,” I say, giving him a nod that he returns.
Mr. Hughes shakes his head, the grin still on his face. “You should be very proud, Sara. They came out absolutely beautiful.” He leans closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell any Bay View yearbook club alumni you might run into in town, but this is by far the best yearbook we’ve had in all the years I’ve been in charge here.”
Warmth spreads across my face along with my smile. “Really?” I breathe.
Mr. Hughes nods. “All the photos you took, the write-ups, the layout, the design, the way you pulled it all together.” He taps his knuckle on top of the yearbooks in his hand. “The time and love you put into it is beyond evident. You told quite the story.”
My cheeks hurt from how big I’m grinning. I feel Robbie squeeze my shoulders from behind and pride instantly swirls in my chest. “Wow, thank you, sir. I’m so happy you’re happy with it.”
“I always knew you could do it,” Mr. Hughes says, giving me a wink. “I can’t believe graduation is less than two weeks away. I can’t lie, I’m going to miss having you in my class, but I’m just so excited to see what you do in the future.” He tilts the yearbooks up towards his face, giving them one more look over. “I expect great things from you, Sara.”
“Oh…” I mutter, my throat suddenly tight. “Well, thank you, Mr. Hughes. For pushing me. For believing in me.”
And in this moment, I truly mean that. I feel really proud of what I created and even more proud that someone I admire so much was impressed with it. I think about how far I’ve come this year. About how I never would have even had the opportunity of having creative control over the yearbook if Mr. Hughes hadn't pushed me to run for student body president. I think about the risk I took in doing it, and the many risks I added along the way in hopes of achieving my goal, and how they all worked out in the end.
But what I don’t want to think about, at least not right this second, is my future Mr. Hughes is so excited about. For just a little while longer, I’d like to just live in this moment. I’d like to let myself be the high schooler I pushed so hard against being for the last four years. I don’t want to think about what’s to come. I don’t want to think about the plane ticket to New York City that I haven’t bought yet. I don’t want to think about where this all ends and where something new begins. But, I think I may have realized, I’m not quite ready or willing to give up what I have here. Not just yet.
“Thank you,” I tell Mr. Hughes, “for…you know, everything.”
“Of course. It was my pleasure,” Mr. Hughes nods. “And, I just have to say, I didn’t quite see your vision when you initially wanted to go with this as the cover, but I think it came out perfectly. It’s as Bay View Class of ‘88 as it gets.”
“Thanks,” I smile. “Of course, I agree. And I’m really happy with it as well.”
I can sense Robbie craning his neck behind me as Mr. Hughes hands me our two yearbooks, and, once they’re in my hands, his spine steels.
“Cooper…”
“Thanks, Mr. Hughes. Thanks, Eugene.” I give them both a wave as I scurry away from the table, Robbie hot on my heels.
“Cooper, what the hell did you do?” he asks.
I stop in place, spinning on my heel to face him, a devilish grin on my face. I take the sticky note off of the front of Robbie’s yearbook, handing it to him.
His mouth falls open as he stares down at the cover, shaking his head in disbelief.
It just has the usual title words like it does every year at the top.Bay View High School 1987-1988 Yearbook. But the particular photo beneath the words is what’s really worth noticing.
The picture on the front shows the front parking lot of the school on a busy morning, the sun on the horizon, just the perfect amount of clouds in the sky, and tons of students walking around in blurry fashion. The top right area of the image shows a clear view of our white, blue, and yellow Bay View High School sign withHome of the Bearsdisplayed beneath it along with our mascot.
And then, front and center, is Robbie.
His shiny red Camaro takes on most of the spotlight in the picture, but, of course, everyone’s eyes are going to be drawn to the boy standing next to the Camaro. The face of Bay View High if there ever was one.
Robbie stands to the side of his open car door, sunglasses on, outfit effortlessly cool, hair perfectly imperfect, sliding his headphones onto his head.
It’s my favorite photo I took all year. One I impulsively took a couple of months back when the two of us weren’t even speaking.
I was getting off of the bus and walking into school. I had my camera slung around my neck because it was Valentine’s Day and I was planning to take photos around the school. I had made it a habit at that point of never turning my head towards the parking lot when I walked in, to just actively avoid any place I thought Robbie might be. But, for whatever reason, I went against my own rules that day.
And there he was, looking like the perfect image of high school in California in the 80s. And I just knew, I had to capture it.
“Do you like it?” I ask him.
Robbie takes the yearbook from me, shaking his head. He stares down at it for so long that I lean closer, looking down at the picture to make sure there wasn’t anything I missed, something that may have made him unhappy with me using it, but I don’t find anything.
“Um…Rob–”
I don’t get his full name out of my mouth before he’s scooping me up in his arms, kissing me hard. I wrap my arms around his neck, smiling into his mouth and chuckling as he pulls back.
